


Have the Radio On

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alien genitalia, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Messy & Emotional sex, Mild Comeplay, No Spoilers, Pon Farr, Pseudo-Vagina, Set Sometime after ST: B, Spiced Peaches XLVI, biology made them do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-21 22:07:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8262070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: Pon Farr is upon Spock and McCoy--with some unexpected results.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Spiced Peaches zine #XLVI! My first ever time contributing to something like this--it was fun! The theme for the zine this time around was 'pon farr.' Thanks to logicheartsoul for being my beta!
> 
> Hope you guys like it!

The first sign is an anguished cry from Spock accompanied by a tray of beakers clattering to the ground.

The poor ensign, hands empty now that the tray has fallen, has Leonard’s sympathies. Nothing gets a new recruit shaking in their boots quite like a suddenly, briefly enraged Vulcan. Or, half-Vulcan, in this case.

Leonard watches Spock blush bright, embarrassed green, watches him apologize in a way that one might even consider _profuse_. The ensign assures Spock that there’s no harm done, not that the assurances seem to soothe Spock much. Leonard tucks away the thought to prescribe his boyfriend some extra rest as soon as they have the time.

-

The second sign nearly loses them their jobs.

Now, Leonard hates diplomatic functions on principle. He hates getting strapped into his dress uniform and feeling suffocated by starchy fabric and staunch pompous attitudes. He spends the whole day unsettled and on edge with the knowledge that something, anything may go wrong. _Will_ go wrong, more like it. He hasn’t even had a chance to catch a moment with Spock, to find some comfort in his partner and maybe sneak off for a quick kiss or several.

Eventually they’re finally standing in line, looking formal and proper while the diplomat of who-knows-where boards the ship. As Kirk leads the diplomat down the line, Leonard readies himself for the obnoxious pleasantries necessary at a time like this.

Before he can nod politely or extend his hand in a shake, all hell breaks loose.

Leonard barely makes eye contact with the diplomat’s glassy and bug-like gaze before there’s a roar, a grunt, and the unmistakable sound of bodies crashing to the ground.

Leonard blinks and realizes the diplomat—that they’re supposed to be escorting to a nearby planet, for the sake of the Federation—is on the floor with Spock snarling on top of him.

(Later, Leonard sits with Spock for several long hours trying to coax a reason out of his partner. It’s pointless, something Spock is all too happy to point out. The interrogation never even gets a little bit heated, something that almost concerns Leonard more. Spock never raises his voice, no matter how much Leonard badgers him. Spock never rises to the bait, and by the end of it Leonard is the one in a spitting rage.)

(Eventually, he drops it. It takes several hours but Leonard eventually stops pestering his boyfriend just thanks their lucky stars that the diplomat enjoys a good scuffle. Of all things, the crazed alien thought it was a nice change of pace to get tackled to the ground and socked on the jaw, rather than a simple handshake or hello.)

-

The third sign is also the final sign.

What happened doesn’t matter. What matters is that it culminates in Leonard taking Spock by the tip of one of his damned, pointed ears and dragging him from the mess hall. He feels far too much like his ma as he pinches the green skin between his thumb and forefinger. Spock puts up no resistance and Leonard can feel the burn of his blush flooding his face up through his ears. They earn a plethora of intrigued looks as they stumble down the halls of the ship, but no one stops to ask questions.

Leonard only relents in his hold once they’re in the privacy of his quarters.

The door slides shut and casts them in a misleadingly ominous darkness. For a while, neither man speaks. Spock stands with his back rigid and hands clasped behind him; he keeps his gaze focused on the wall behind Leonard. To some, it would look like Spock is making eye contact, or at least looking at Leonard directly—but the doctor knows that’s not the case. Spock’s eyes aren’t solid or warm as they are when they pierce Leonard with his stare. Instead, they’re shaking, his pupils are unnervingly small in the brown iris of his gaze.

Leonard stands just as rigidly but only has eyes for Spock, can’t look anywhere _but_ his boyfriend. He looks Spock over from a distance but knows he won’t find anything outwardly unusual. He’s distracted momentarily by the blush still coating Spock’s skin, but he can’t take the same delight in it as he usually would.

(Spock blushing is one of Leonard’s favorite sights, but not in this moment.)

Leonard makes no move and says nothing until finally, _finally_ —Spock fidgets.

It’s just a small, minute twitch. The muscles in his shoulders are too tight in fear, and embarrassment eventually gives way to a shiver running through his body. It’s a failed attempt at relaxing, at playing it cool; it’s Spock’s delicate attempt at saying _I’m fine_ without actually speaking. It’s an image that would be almost laughable, if Leonard weren’t so concerned.

“Spit it out, Spock.”

Spock flinches. Again, hardly noticeable. A gesture only Leonard’s trained eye would ever probably catch. It’s enough to have him breaking the façade and moving forward with arms outstretched. Spock doesn’t move away from the gesture but he doesn’t move into it either. He stays stock still.

“Darlin’,” Leonard probes. His tone is so soft it’s almost a whisper. “Talk to me,” he pleads once he’s chest to chest with Spock, once his arms are wound around Spock’s waist carefully. He rubs his thumbs gently along Spock’s hips. “Never seen you like this before.”

Spock inhales sharply and slowly, then breathes out in a shuddering sigh. He shivers and the vibrations bleed into Leonard’s body, leaving both of them shaking. As he rubs rhythmic circles into Spock’s hips over the fabric of his science blues, the tension starts to seep from his partner’s body—and from their conversation, and the room.

Eventually, Spock caves. His body curls a bit and he presses into Leonard’s embrace. His rests his forehead on Leonard’s shoulder and his breathing is hot and damp and sticks to his clothes.

“Spock?” Leonard keeps his tone low and slow; his thumbs move like a metronome over his boyfriend’s hips. He allows the silence to stretch for a while longer, but resolves not to let it consume them. He won’t let this go, not this time.

“It is…” Spock makes a distressed and angry noise, like a displeased cat’s mewling. “It is _pon farr_.”

Leonard makes a curious sound, but when Spock tries to move away the doctor only tightens his grip. He moves his hands from Spock’s hips to his back and cages Spock in his arms.

“Oh no you don’t,” he chides. “You’re gonna stay right here and tell me what the hell _pon farr_ is,” and god, the Vulcan words sound ridiculous with a layer of his southern twang slathered over them. “M’not gonna let you leave till we get this sorted out.”

“Leonard.” Spock’s tone is pleading and small but fails spectacularly as a deterrent.

“Nuh-uh,” Leonard insists.

Carefully, he walks Spock through the quarters until they hit the bedroom. They stumble a few times and both of them know it would’ve been a hell of a lot easier to just separate and walk on their own. Neither of them really care for easy.

The backs of Spock’s knees meet the edge of the bed, sends them tumbling on top of the covers less than gracefully. Leonard maneuvers their bodies so that he’s spooned up behind Spock, still holding him iron-tight and warm. They lay for a while; each of them shifting to get as comfortable as possible. They know the nooks and crannies of the other’s body well enough to know how they fit together.

Once they settle, with Leonard’s body fitted around Spock’s own, the silence breaks once again.

“This is not something to be taken lightly.”

“Who says I’m gonna take it lightly?” Leonard feels hurt by the accusation, though a quick glance at Spock’s expression tells him it wasn’t meant as a jibe.

Spock sighs and grips Leonard’s arm tight, so much so that his finely trimmed nails press hard enough to hurt.

“Gotta tell me, Spock. Either as your physician, or as your boyfriend—or hell, as your god damned _friend_. But you can’t hold this in.”

Spock nods. The action spreads his hair across the pillow in stark, messy contrast. “It may take a while to explain… everything.”

“Better get started then, huh?” Leonard kisses the base of Spock’s neck. “Take your time.”

-

“You are taking this remarkably well, Leonard.”

The words rouse him from his light sleep. “Wha—Spock, of course I am.”

Spock’s sadly amused face startles Leonard into complete awareness. At some point in the night, Leonard had ended up on his back, and now Spock is propped up on his elbow, looming. He seems to struggle for words; his lips move but no words form.

“Spock.” Leonard sits up and pulls Spock to rise with him. When they’re both sitting fully upright and facing one another, Leonard continues. “I may not be Vulcan, but I think I have the ability to understand what this means for you.”

Spock shakes his head. “That is not what I meant, Leonard.” He tilts his head, looks at Leonard like a curious puzzle. “I only mean that we have not been together long, and _pon farr_ is an intense experience. It is usually done only when a bond has been formed. It is an intricate piece of my culture and life, and I am happy to be sharing it with you.”

Spock raises a hand to cup Leonard’s cheek.

“I simply did not anticipate you to be this way. So ready and willing to accept what this may mean for me. For us.” Spock leans in and kisses Leonard softly. “I appreciate it.”

Leonard covers Spock’s hand with his own. “Course, Spock.” A sudden blush blooms under the touch and he coughs far from discreetly. “Ah, you may need to go over a few things again. Might’a dozed off now and then.”

Spock only smiles. “Very well.”

-

“So… it’s about prolonging your species.” Leonard states the next morning over breakfast. They’re still in his quarters and neither have changed from their uniforms from the day prior. They both look rumpled but well rested, and Leonard is caught between excitement in his veins, affection in his chest, and a bit of anxiety bubbling in his heart.

Spock nods with his eyes trained on his cup of tea. He doesn’t seem exasperated by the fact that Leonard has stated that same fact several times since this ordeal began.

“So,” Leonard draws out the word longer this time. It gets an arched eyebrow from Spock in response. “You’re gonna want to knock me up.” Another statement, said for the umpteenth time.

Spock’s blush worsens. “That is very likely. However—?”

He’s cut off by the alarming chime of not only the communicator strapped to his waist, but also the overall alarm system rigged through the entire ship. Over the speakers, the usual calm female voice gives a rundown of the situation but Kirk’s voice overpowers the sound.

“Commander Spock, please come to the bridge, immediately.”

Leonard looks up in panic but Spock is already standing and moving to the door. He stops just long enough to brush a kiss against Leonard’s lips then murmur, “Be prepared, the fever may hit at any time. I shall see you soon.” He holds up his fingers and Leonard brushes his own against them in a gesture that feels almost mechanical, but no less warm.

Spock nods once, then leaves.

Leonard can’t help but wonder if everyone else will notice Spock hasn’t changed uniform for a day.

-

He figures, later on, that they _probably_ noticed. He also figures, in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter all that much.

No, what matters is that six hours after leaving Leonard’s quarters and getting beamed down to nearby planet to rescue some crewmembers, things take a turn for the worse. (Or better. A case could be made for either.)

“Bones, you’re needed in the transporter room.”

Refreshed, clean, and in a pressed uniform, Leonard gets there in record time. He knows without Jim having to say that it’s related to Spock. He skids into the room just in time to watch his crewmates materialize on the transporter pad. Immediately, the shouting starts and Leonard watches as Spock tackles Jim and tries to wrestle him into a headlock.

Craziness erupts just as fast and Leonard finds himself pushing through the crowd of redshirts to get to his best friend and his boyfriend. He makes it through just in time to see Jim land a solid hit to Spock’s jaw, not that it stops the Vulcan one little bit. Before he can think better of it, Leonard cuts across the pandemonium in a shout.

“Spock!”

Silence falls and all eyes turn to him. To the two of them, really. Spock lets go of Jim’s shredded tunic—how does one man manage to rip so many shirts in just the right way to expose his pectorals, is what Leonard wants to know—and turns toward the medical officer. Spock’s eyes narrow and a flush takes over his body. In a disconcerting instant, the rage leaves his body like a bathtub draining and he stumbles toward Leonard.

“Spock?” Leonard curls his arms around Spock’s body and they walk backwards. The crowd of people parts for them until Spock and Leonard fall into the hallway. “Spock, are you okay?”

Spock shudders. He grabs at Leonard’s arms tight enough to bruise. “I am fine. There was… an incident on the planet.”

“An incident?”

Spock ignores his disbelief. “It triggered the fever, and while it is inconvenient, we must go, _now_.” He shoves Leonard down the hall without detaching their bodies at all.

“Spock, I don’t know about this,” Leonard rambles, though all the while he’s got his hands all over Spock and Spock is much the same. They can’t stop touching each other, even if Leonard is more trying to keep his Spock standing rather than get frisky. He keeps rambling.

“I mean—you said you wouldn’t stop for _anything_ once the fever hits, and I haven’t had time to prepare.” Leonard’s face is burning as he speaks but he’s a doctor, dammit, he refuses to be embarrassed about this. He’s a doctor and a bisexual man, talking about fingering himself open for his horny boyfriend shouldn’t be this hard to do!

Spock shakes his head though, and shoves Leonard more insistently down the hall. “It will not be necessary, Leonard.” A full body shiver runs its course and Spock makes a noise caught between pain and desire.

“Not necessary? Spock, listen, I may not be an expert in your physiology, but I damn well know that my ass—?”

“Leonard, _please_. Stop talking and _walk_.” Spock brushes past Leonard and in the same moment grabs his wrist and pulls him along. “I will explain once we’re alone.”

Leonard’s mouth shuts with a click and he hurries at Spock’s heels without another word. 

Despite the fact that they’ve already been stumbling down the hall for several minutes, it feels like it takes several _hours_ to actually make it to Spock’s quarters. It seems to take eons for Spock to enter the access code and even longer for the door to open. Falling inside, though, takes less than the blink of an eye.

Leonard relaxes as the cranked up heat of Spock’s quarters overwhelms him. It’s comforting for multiple reasons. The room lends some sense of control to a situation that is otherwise spiraling—Spock’s quarters had been the pre-agreed upon place to let _pon farr_ have its wicked way with them. Beyond that, the heat is dry and welcoming and reminds Bones of days spent in Georgia. It makes this all that much more bearable.

“We should probably,” Leonard’s cut off as Spock kisses him sloppily. In the same movement, both their belts get abandoned and they somehow manage to kick off their shoes. “Spock.” Leonard’s mind drifts to their conversation the night before. Drifts to the fact that they’ve only been dating a short while and that the whole purpose of _pon farr_ is to procreate. Realistically ( _logically_ ) he knows that no baby-making is actually going to come from this, and yet his mind is racing.

“I know—listen—we need to—?” Leonard tries again only to end up with his shirt around his head before finally getting it ripped off. “We need to talk about this.”

Spock lets out a desperate growl. “We do _not_.”

“Explain _why_.” Leonard snaps back, even going so far as to shove Spock away. The distance helps; Leonard’s head clears just enough to realize he’s scared, and Spock probably is too.

Spock keens unhappily and looks about two seconds away from stomping his feet. “Very well.” He agrees but his face contorts with pain as he does. “While I am aware that you fell asleep numerous times during my explanation, I distinctly remember you being awake when I told you that…” Spock falters, and swallows around his nerves in an anxious gulp. “When I told you that Vulcan biology can greatly differ from human biology, and that the intricacies of such differences are secrets well-kept.”

Leonard nods. When Spock advances a step forward, Leonard counters with a step back.

“I know we haven’t had much time to explore one another physically. You admitted to not being overly familiar with Vulcan physiology. You know only what you’ve seen in M’Benga’s files, which are politely limited to ensure my privacy and comfort.” At his sides, Spock’s hands clench and relax in fevered repetition. He leans—sways, more like it—toward Leonard but doesn’t take another step closer.

“Spock, you’re not telling me anything I don’t already know!”

“Leonard, either allow me to finish or allow me to _show you_.” Spock’s voice cracks. With it, Leonard’s resolve.

“Show me, then.” He turns toward the bedroom and sheds the remainder of his clothes as he goes. He leaves a trail of blue and black behind him and listens as Spock does the same, much more hurried. Leonard is about to crawl onto the bed when a blur of green brushes past him and lays down first. Spock settles on his back immediately, deep brown eyes trained on Leonard. Regulation black briefs cling to his body and hide nothing and everything all at once.

Leonard’s mouth goes dry.

“It is unusual,” Spock admits. “I worry what your opinion might be.”

“I’m an old man with a kid, and plenty of fooling around under my belt. I’m not exactly a blushing virgin. I doubt whatever you’re packing is gonna send me running for the hills.” Leonard sinks onto the bed and strokes his hands along the side of Spock’s face. Spock leans into the touch and lets out a happy sigh. “Nothing you do could send me running.”

Spock nods after another moment of hesitation. “Contrary to what you may believe, Leonard, discussing previous sexual partners is not conducive to setting the mood.” Despite his words, he grips the waistband of his briefs and drags them down slowly. He raises his knees to his chest enough to pull his underwear down his slender, hairy legs. Then, he lays flat on the bed, fully exposed.

It may be rude, but Leonard takes a good, long couple of minutes to stare. He’s sure Spock understands.

Spock’s hips aren’t abnormal; maybe a bit bony, some might say chiseled. The neatly trimmed trail of hair leading to the top of his junk is also normal, curly even. Leonard wants a closer look, because somehow Spock’s pubes—how darkly they contrast against his skin, how curly they are compared to Spock’s straight hair—are _endearing_ of all the crazy, fool-in-love things.

That’s where the normalcy ends, though. Leonard figures he’s too old and cynical for normal anyways; he’s in space—who _needs_ normal?

Spock’s pubic mound, beneath the dark hair, is flushed a brilliant and vibrant green. His skin has the slight sheen of sweat and the scent of his arousal rolls off him in waves. Under Leonard’s stare, Spock’s legs fall open slightly wider. With the motion, his body opens up for Leonard even more.

Framed by the dark curls is a split of flesh not unlike a human vagina. Leonard eyes the beads of slick that cling to the folds and seem ready to spill across Spock’s body. That’s not sweat, Leonard knows. The smell is too heady and the liquid looks thick and sticky. Leonard licks his lips and brings a hand to touch the folds. Spock flinches at the touch but his hips press upward to meet Leonard’s hand halfway.

Smooth and soft, Leonard’s fingertips slip between the skin and he meets a spongy wall of resistance immediately. He massages the slick, double ridged skin curiously. He listens as Spock’s breathing increases and his hips rolls leisurely into Leonard’s touch. Leonard’s mouth drops open and he withdraws his hand, suddenly desperate to taste the fluid on his fingers. In a seamless motion, as Leonard’s fingers pull back, the flesh he’d been caressing slips out from between the folds.

Slick and lubricated, slowly a thick cock protrudes from the split. It glistens even in the low light of the room and Leonard can’t stop thinking of burying his face between his boyfriend’s thighs. He tilts his head enough to get a glimpse below the cock and isn’t surprised to find Spock has no external testes. Instead, the slit between the folds ends there; it’s open and full of Spock’s fluid, like…

Leonard raises an eyebrow. “Is that, ah.” He gulps.

“It is not a vagina,” Spock answers the unfinished question. “Though, it is similar. It is shallow and exists only as an extension of the cavern that houses my penis.” Spock looks down at his groin. “My body is slightly different than that of a true Vulcan, likely due to my human genes. Most Vulcan males—?”

“Spock.” Leonard catches Spock’s gaze. “It doesn’t matter what other guys have.” He reaches out again. He brushes his fingers along Spock’s prick and then moves lower to tease the hole. It’s not deep, that’s accurate. He’s barely gets up to his middle knuckle with a single finger before it feels too tight, too much. It’s erotic, though, and makes Leonard’s head swim. “I want to taste you.”

Spock whines. His back arches like a bow and his legs spread wantonly. The scent grows stronger and Leonard bends to get closer. He situates himself between Spock’s legs without preamble. His hands move to cup Spock’s ass and hold him steady. “So, uh.” Leonard breathes in the scent, so much stronger up close, and sighs. “What was that ‘however’ you mentioned earlier?” 

Spock groans. “It is typical to assume that Vulcan males would present aggressively and wish to be dominating their partner. _However_ ,” Spock shoots him a pointed glare, “It is not uncommon for the fever to change what may be typical. Vulcans are receptive to both forms of procreating. I had wondered if the fever would make me…”

Leonard rubs his thumbs soothingly along the swell of Spock’s ass. It earns him a breathy sigh, and a finished sentence.

“I had wondered if the fever would make me react this way. While my desire may change during _pon farr_ , at this moment it would be most gratifying if you were to be inside me. _Now_.” 

Leonard moans low in his throat. “Well, when you say it like that.” He finally gives into the urge and tongues along the small opening of Spock’s body. He presses his tongue inside as much as he can and swallows around the taste of slick. Spock’s body tenses and his thighs press against either side of Leonard’s head. The moan he lets out is loud and vibrates down to where Leonard’s mouth is lapping insistently at his body. Hot and overwhelmed and content to stay exactly where he is for the rest of his natural life, Leonard groans when Spock starts to push at his head.

He pulls away just enough to look up at Spock. “C’mon now, I’d love to get better acquainted with ya down here.” Spock’s hand stops pushing at Leonard and instead combs through his hair sweetly. Leonard, while he waits for a response, blows cool air against the aroused heat.

Spock shivers but shakes his head; Leonard admires the way his hair flops about. “It would be better if you penetrated me first, then have your fun after.” Despite the solid tone, there’s still a small smile curling at Spock’s lips. “Please, Leonard,” he says quieter. “Do this for me. It is the only thing that will sate the fever for the moment. You can do whatever you like, _after_.”

Leonard nods. He sits up and pushes Spock’s knees to bend, his feet flat on the sheets. “Alright, alright.” His reaches down between Spock’s cheeks, taking some slick with him until he hits the puckered opening of Spock’s ass. The skin yields slowly but easily, and when Leonard presses two fingers inside he’s only a little surprised to find Spock’s body is wet there as well. “Self-lubricating all over, huh?” He asks. Without waiting for an answer he starts to move his fingers in a timeless rhythm.

“Spock, it may be a little late to think of this, but…” Leonard curls his fingers just to see what happens, gets a moan and catalogues the sound for later. “Should I wear a condom?”

Spock stiffens.

“I mean, again, don’t know exactly how your biology works but if this whole damn fever is about prolonging your species, seems like fuckin’ you without a condom is a surefire way to end up, uh, doing exactly that.”

“Do you want to?” Spock asks slowly. He clenches around Leonard’s fingers.

“I don’t wanna knock you up, Spock.”

“The chances of you doing so on the first try are highly improbable.”

“But not impossible,” Leonard counters.

Spock groans and presses his face into the pillow. “No, not impossible, how astute of you.” He closes his eyes tight. “The fever can still be sated if you do wear a condom.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming on…”

“ _But_ , it would… greatly increase my pleasure, if you chose not to.” Spock finally looks back at his lover-to-be. “I understand your concerns, Leonard, and do not think I’m not similarly concerned. I am not truly ready to start a family, not at this time, but I am comfortable dealing with that issue when we get to it—if we get to it, at all.”

Leonard pauses and searches Spock’s expression for just a little longer before he gives in. He can’t help the burn of arousal at the thought of getting to feel Spock’s wet heat around his cock with no barrier. He lets his fingers slip from Spock’s hole and takes his own cock by the hilt instead. Leonard leans forward and supports himself with a palm on the bed at Spock’s side. He stops to stare down at Spock.

“You should put a pillow under your hips.”

Spock keens but obeys. He yanks the pillow from beneath his head and wriggles until it’s under the small of his back. It angles his body just so, leaving him spread wide open for Leonard’s taking.

When Spock says his name again, for the umpteenth time this evening, it’s clearly a warning.

Leonard pushes his hips forward and sinks inside Spock in a single swift thrust. He lets out a shout at the sensations. “Christ, Spock, you feel…” He tips his head back and swallows. “You feel so good.” When he looks back down at Spock, he realizes his boyfriend—now lover, ain’t that something—looks more relaxed than he has in weeks. “You okay?”

Spock nods slowly, dazedly. “You feel good as well, Leonard.” Spock’s hips roll and his walls clench around Leonard’s prick. “It would feel better if you moved.”

Leonard starts to thrust slowly and rhythmically. The slap of flesh is wet and hot and in tune with each of their gasps and moans. Spock’s back arches and his cock rubs against Leonard’s pubic hair, the smattering of hair on his stomach. He’s more vocal than Leonard would have ever guessed, ever would have hoped. Leonard shivers every time Spock lets out a sigh, a moan, a gasp at the sensations _Leonard_ is giving him.

“Your voice, Spock. You sound,” Leonard rambles. Complete sentences are a far off dream and the only comfort is that Spock is in a similar position. Spock’s mouth hasn’t closed since the first thrust and his moans are only getting louder, obscener. “Say my name, Spock.”

 _“Leonard.”_ Spock’s hands shoot up and grab Leonard by the shoulders just to haul him down and closer. Spock tilts his head and kisses him, _hard_ , nipping at his lower lip eagerly. “Faster, please.” Leonard groans into the half-kiss, unable to resist.

He covers Spock’s body with his own and moves his hips in earnest. He digs his knees into the bed and drives into Spock’s body unrelentingly. He moves a hand between their bodies to tease Spock’s dick; it slicks his fingers and where Leonard might enjoy more friction in his handjobs, the wet sensation seems to drive Spock even wilder. Spock twists and turns and ruts against Leonard, nails raking against his lover’s shoulders in bright red, thin welts.

“Spock, darlin’, c’mon. Talk to me.”

Spock’s eyes open and he looks so soft and warm with emotion. His mouth drops open but it takes a while before words actually come out. “I would like a family with you someday, Leonard.”

He doesn’t falter in his thrusts, but it’s a near thing. His heart certainly skips a beat or twenty and for a brief moment he’s sure he’s going to die of a heart attack. Wouldn’t that be a way to go? “Spock?”

There’s no stopping the Vulcan now, though. He’s loose and relaxed and his body and mind are completely open to Leonard. “While now may not be the right time,” his words hitch in pleasure, “Someday, I would like to consider that option. Perhaps when _pon farr_ comes again, years from now. Perhaps that will be the right time.” Spock smiles, teeth shining between green lips. His hands drift to his stomach and lay flat over his abs.

Leonard can see what Spock is picturing, and the thought excites him as much as it terrifies him. Spock swollen with their child, belly heavy and firm with life. Leonard can almost hear the echo of the child’s heartbeat hammering under Spock’s skin; beyond that, he can hear the phantom laughter of _their_ child. His own heart beats a mile a minute and he has to stop thrusting to catch his breath. He swallows Spock’s moan of loss in a kiss.

“You really want that?” Leonard asks as he looms over Spock. His eyes feel wet in the corners and he can’t fight back the urge to grin. “With me?” He doesn’t let his mind wander too much to his failures before, as a father and a husband. Something about the way Spock looks at him, in this moment, makes him feel like a second chance wouldn’t be so bad.

Spock nods, though in the same second he rolls his hips to encourage Leonard. Slowly, the grinding of their bodies starts again, but Leonard isn’t finished talking. His hips move quick but his grip on Spock’s dick is slow and leisurely, comfortable.

“How?” A saying about looking a gift horse in the mouth flits through his thoughts but it doesn’t matter. “We’ve only been, I mean, it hasn’t been that long. Not that I, that I _don’t_ want that.”

Spock’s arms wind across Leonard’s shoulders, and when he speaks, it’s with the lilt of a grin. “I do, Leonard. But as I said: not now. Later, seven years from now to be precise. Right now, I’d much rather you’d _fuck_ me.” Spock’s eyes narrow as though challenging Leonard.

Leonard groans and obeys. Words and deep conversation are replaced with guttural gasps and pleas and the steady rocking of the bed against the wall. His grip on Spock’s dick tightens and the force of his thrusts drive Spock forward into said grip. Between their bodies Spock’s slick is spreading, and they stick together and come apart with lewd slaps. The wetter it gets, the more lust fogging his mind, the more difficult it is for Leonard to keep stroking his partner.

Instead, Leonard wedges his hand between them. It’s an awkward angle but worth it for when he can slip his fingertip into Spock’s small cavern. It’s wet, almost overflowing, and accepts Leonard’s touch. He thrusts his finger carefully, never pressing too deep or hard; he focuses on the glide of his skin against the slick walls of Spock’s opening and is rewarded with—

Spock throws his head back suddenly. Leonard is immediately hypnotized by the long lean lines of his neck, the thrum of his pulse just under the skin. Spock’s whole body tenses. Spock coming undone in an orgasm is an experience Leonard is sincerely looking forward to repeating. Spock’s prick twitches a uniform three times, each pulse spilling come between them that’s familiar and white and tacky. His slick, his self-lubrication increases too, making even more of a mess between them. Leonard thrusts that much faster, smoother, drawn in by the way Spock’s walls clench around him.

“Fuck,” Leonard hisses as his come spills inside Spock. Sparks of stray arousal and desire burn down his back and pool in his gut. It’s barbaric and absurd but there’s a bone-deep satisfaction in marking his claim on Spock, in filling his lover up. He wonders if it’s Spock’s emotions bleeding into his own but Leonard decides he doesn’t really care. His hips keep rolling until they’re both sensitive to continue, as much as they would like to.

Rather than shoving at him to move ( _like Jocelyn used to_ , a traitorous voice hisses in Leonard’s brain) Spock wraps around him like an octopus, and they settle comfortably on the bed. “Jesus, Spock.”

A vibration hums between them that sounds suspiciously like a chuckle blooming from Spock’s chest. It dissolves into what Leonard can only classify as a _purr_.

“Thank you, Leonard.” Spock murmurs as he nuzzles against his lover’s face.

“Not exactly a hardship to sleep with you, Spock, especially not when you tell me you’ve been thinkin’ of a real future with me.”

Spock opens his eyes slowly and the brown irises are rich with warmth.

“How long?” Leonard asks as he carefully withdraws from Spock’s body. He doesn’t roll over to the side, though; instead he lays on Spock’s body like a blanket. It’s intimate and sticky and perfect.

“Since I asked you to dinner, that first evening.” Spock strokes his fingers lazily along Leonard’s back. “My feelings shifted before that, but I took an understandably long amount of time to analyze such feelings.” Spock’s blush fades slowly and a level of familiar awareness floods his features again. “I had to discern how you felt about me, naturally.”

Leonard laughs and nods. “Of course, only logical.”

“Then I had to determine the long term viability of this relationship. I had to analyze if that would be agreeable to you, and what I would do were it not.” Spock looks sad for a moment but it passes. He kisses at Leonard’s cheek. The touch lingers, and when Spock pulls back, he looks calmer. “I also knew that my time would be approaching, as much as I had hoped I would be spared due to my human biology. I had to decide if I wanted to involve you in this as well.”

“Is this… we aren’t married, are we?” Leonard has seen plenty of crazy things. Getting married via some crazy sex-fever would hardly be impossible.

Spock shakes again with a silent laugh. “No, Leonard. Far from it.” He looks at Leonard with what some might see as reserved affection, restrained emotion. To Leonard, it’s the most warmth and caring he’s ever seen between those two pointy ears. “ _Pon farr_ isn’t a bonding ceremony, not strictly. It can be, if needed. Mostly, it’s a biological imperative for my species.”

Leonard’s brow furrows. “I sense another ‘but’ coming on.”

“But for us,” Spock replies as he sits up, pushing Leonard up as well. He turns their bodies as he speaks until Leonard is the one on his back and Spock is settled across his thighs. “For us, I believe it shall be, simply, a lot of fun.”

Leonard shivers as he feels his own come drip out of Spock. Almost mindlessly, he brings his hand around to cup Spock’s ass, then to the mess between Spock’s cheeks. He toys with the mixture of their fluids and puts just enough pressure on the sensitive skin to be a tease. Spock gasps and pushes his body against into the touch. Leonard watches Spock ride his fingers, watches as Spock’s dick grows stiff again and bounces with the grind.

“I could watch this all day,” Leonard admits.

Spock shudders and his cock twitches again, though only once with an accompanying spurt of come. “I wouldn’t object to that.”

Dazed, Leonard sits up and wraps his arms around Spock’s waist. “Are you always that sensitive, or is it just a _pon farr_ thing?” His mind races with the possibility of making Spock come as many times as possible. He starts up a mental tally immediately—two is pretty normal, but Leonard wonders if he can get Spock to five, or more. A _lot_ more.

Spock raises an eyebrow. “A bit of both, I believe.”

Leonard laughs this time, delighted and maybe more than a little crazed. “Oh this _is_ going to be fun.” He uses his grip around Spock’s waist to shift their positions again, leaving Spock flat on the bed with Leonard’s head between his legs.

“Leonard.” Spock’s fingers comb through his hair. Leonard pauses and looks up, tongue already resting on his lower lip, ready to taste. Spock gapes for a moment, then, “Please, continue.”

Leonard grins. “My pleasure, darlin’.”

**Author's Note:**

> A few notes:
> 
> -T'Pring either doesn't exist in AOS or her and Spock were never bonded, so she's not relevant to this story at all, hence why she's never mentioned.  
> -I took inspiration for Spock's junk from the [fanlore wiki page on Vulcan genitals](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Vulcan_Genitalia), for a pseudo-vagina.  
> -The title comes from a Marilyn Monroe quote, "It's not true that I had nothing on. I had the radio on."


End file.
